


in the subject of matrimony

by serenelapins



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Faeries & Things, F/F, Psuedo-Cannibalism, nonpermanent cycles of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:07:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25975669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenelapins/pseuds/serenelapins
Summary: Woven between strings, it was the product of love in the form of a wish.The threads were bound to come undone.
Relationships: Kairi/Naminé (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6





	in the subject of matrimony

**Author's Note:**

> requested by stitch

It was thick, setting on her open palm uncomfortably.

Naminé squeezed her fist lightly, shades of red seeping up between her fingers. She relaxed her grip, observing the traces of silver within the blood.

In her other hand, the small body hung limp, no longer responding. Gently, she twisted the faerie’s legs around one another, squeezing them tightly. Blood oozed forth out of footless stumps; skin shriveled and tearing beneath her touch. 

It reminded her of daffodil stems. She told the faerie as such, the sky around her spinning.

Naminé brought her palm to her mouth, the world settling as she drank. With stained lips, she held the faerie close and kissed her small crown, a phantom of a twinkle hidden in unseeing violet eyes. Naminé adjusted the canvas before her, wondering what beauty could be found in the depths of the creature’s delicate skull if she gouged them out.

The faerie’s body slumped forward, soft locks of red tickling her. Naminé crinkled her nose, holding the dead weight away. She turned to the canvas, pressing her soiled palm to the fabric. The blood sat like a sticky film, crawling and branching out ever so slowly from her mark.

Bathed in the evening sun, silver specks shone blue, and Naminé wondered if the sea would swallow her whole.

The wind rattled the faerie’s body a bit, Naminé admiring the way the frail and ruined carcass swayed with the breeze. She moved her thumb beneath the neck, lifting the faerie’s head and pressing her nail up against the small chin.

“Look,” she began quietly, breathing labored, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The words tasted of acid, burning as they tumbled out her mouth. Her chest ached, Naminé gripping the front of her dress tightly.

The blood that seeped through was warm.

Naminé pulled her hand back, blue a stark contrast to the previous red. She couldn’t hear the sounds of her breathing anymore, the waves thunderous as they crashed against the cliffside, deafening.

She kneeled, holding the faerie close, nail embedding itself into the paper-thin skin.

“We can still make use of it,” she said, words covered in cotton. The canvas loomed over her, a plea woven in between breaths, “We… We can… We have to—”

A pulse beat within her hand, responding.

Naminé tightened her grip, nail cutting clean through the creature’s neck.

* * *

The room had flooded.

Drawings floated on the water’s surface, their colors washed off and swirling into one indistinguishable sea. Naminé kneeled, dirty water accepting her body without complaint. She tried to lift a drawing, one that she recognized from yesterday, and it fell apart in an instant, piece after piece diving back into the floor. As she watched the pieces scatter, a reflection stared back at her. 

Naminé raised a hand to touch her face, prodding the corner of her eye. Had the water washed away their color? 

_You do not exist without her._

She touched the surface, ripples disrupting the image. 

_You do not exist without you._

It was suffocating. Frustration bubbled to the surface, Naminé unable to stop herself from crying out, hands slamming down into the water repeatedly, reaching for and tearing what remained of her creations. The sounds of splashing drowned her screaming, Naminé unable to distinguish her memories from the dirt that kicked up to the surface.

_You do not exist._

It was an act of love. 

If only she could see it that way.

* * *

The view remained unchanging.

The faerie greeted her sweetly as Naminé prepared the canvas, words soaked with affection and adoration. Naminé waited till she finished, responding with a reserved smile. She held out her palm, expecting.

The smell of salt was suffocating.

The faerie jumped on, accepting.

Vibrant eyes watched her patiently, never rushing to begin. Naminé stared at the canvas, noting that it remained withered and stained from the last session. She pressed her free hand to the fabric, feeling the sensation of warm blood greet her. 

Nothing appeared when she removed her hand, and Naminé turned back to the faerie, who smiled at her encouragingly. Naminé nodded, moving to caress the length of the faerie’s arms.

Love began with the marks left behind.

There were no squeals, no screeches, or cries as she ripped the faerie’s hands off. Her fingers were sticky when she moved to access new skin, nails digging in to unearth still wings. Resentment never entered the creature’s eyes as the light began to fade, a light that expired while love remained. 

Naminé hated her for that.

Nothing more than a worthless doll, incapable of truly living.

She tore across the canvas, fear nestled deep in her heart as silver crossed into blue again. Repeatedly she struck the canvas, unable to find her voice among the roaring waves. The faerie’s body swayed in her grip, Naminé speaking to her as if the creature would respond with anything other than undying love.

The faerie never resented her.

_Naminé hated her for that._

* * *

The room was humid.

Red threads of yarn fell onto the floor as Naminé combed through her hair, parting waves of blonde, breath quickening. 

The sketchbook sat a few feet away from her, pages opened and crinkled. She hadn’t dared touch it, continuing to comb through her hair and rid what red threads she could. They continued to fall onto the floor, surrounding her. 

She had never been one to believe in threads of fate, but oh how she longed for the threads of a spider.

There was a soft _clink_ , and Naminé paused in her actions, turning toward the window. One glass pane now appeared cracked, thin fractures spreading as far as they could. Slowly, she stood, walking over to the window.

Another _clink_ sounded, and she jumped at the cracks that shaped before her. Naminé waited for a second before pressing against the window, peering outside with a stuttering heart.

A girl danced about happily, not a burden in the world riding on her shoulders.

Naminé gripped her hair violently, pulling at it roughly.

The girl twirled, stopping to face her. Her violet eyes were full of light as she did another twirl, jumping closer toward her. Naminé’s chest ached painfully, watching as the girl’s red locks bounced around gracefully.

It reminded Naminé of spider lilies.

She pulled away and rushed toward the sketchbook, falling to her knees in a frenzied rush. Pages filled with vibrant colors stared back at her as she held the sheets with trembling hands, nails tearing at the edges.

Threads of red fell as she ripped out the first creation.

_You cannot exist without her._

Her breathing had begun to fail her, and in the distance, Naminé heard the beginnings of a confession. 

_You cannot exist._

She continued to rip the pages out, ignoring drops of blood that dripped down her hands.

* * *

The faerie hovered above her, an ever-present smile on her serene features.

Naminé could no longer hear the sea, the faerie’s wings a cage around her. The ground beneath her head was soft, and for the first time, Naminé stared up and wondered why she had never kissed the sky before.

A hand cupped her cheek. “Over and over,” the faerie began as she leaned down, pressing a kiss between her eyes, “Was it worth it?”

Naminé reached back, accepting. “I don’t know,” she responded, “I wouldn’t know.”

The faerie’s thumb brushed under her eyes, collecting the tears Naminé hadn’t known were falling. There was pressure, but she didn’t wince. She didn’t scream or squeal.

She didn’t resent as the faerie dipped the tip of her thumb beneath her eye and hooked it.

“It’s okay not to know,” the faerie said after a while, pulling her blue-stained thumb out, Naminé feeling more tears roll down and stain her hair. The faerie brushed her bangs aside. “It’s okay just to feel.”

“Would I know how to do that?” she questioned, wondering what could be found in her skull if it were torn open. “Could I know how to do that?”

The faerie dipped her bloodied thumb in Naminé’s mouth, pressing up against the top teeth, paper-thin skin parting as the taste of flesh filled her mouth. The faerie finished slicing through the tip of her thumb, removing her finger and closing Naminé’s mouth. 

She hummed, pressing closer. “I don’t know.”

The taste was bitter, but Naminé swallowed, feeling the piece of finger slide across her tongue and down her throat. The after taste was sweet and poignant, blood washing away the bitter tang of flesh.

The faerie traced the paths the tears had taken with her thumb, blue blood left in its wake. Hands encircled her neck, the faerie’s grip snug. 

Naminé’s chest felt light.

“Was it worth it?” the faerie repeated, applying pressure, their skin melding together.

Naminé smiled, admiring how the wings seemed reminiscent of stained glass. “I don’t know.”

_It was her sanctuary, wasn’t it?_

The faerie kissed her bloodied lips, and Naminé was no longer able to tell where one ended, and the other began.

As the final wave crashed, she couldn’t help but wonder who it was that fell apart first.

* * *

The sharp prong hooked beneath the doll’s tears, gliding through seas of blue with ease. Kairi hummed as she tugged at the loose threads, gently pulling them out of the doll’s skin.

After a few minutes of careful unthreading, she set down her tool and held the doll up, admiring the now tear free cheeks. Kairi cradled the small body close, brushing aside golden threads of hair.

Faintly, another heart echoed hers.

“Were you able to exist?” she asked, standing from her desk and making her way toward the bed. She laid the doll against the pillows, blue button eyes reflecting the bedside lamp’s light.

When Kairi pulled back, she noticed that the skin on the tip of her index finger had begun to peel back. With ease, she took hold of the hanging flesh and tore it off, body long accustomed to sharing itself.

“Were you able to live?” she questioned, setting the skin on the center of the doll’s face, blood holding it fast.

Kairi stepped back and clasped her hands together, patiently waiting for the fabric to finish absorbing the blood. After a minute, the skin fell off, a faint upward curve on the small face.

The sensation of her skin growing back made Kairi giggle as she headed toward the exit. She turned and gave the doll one last look, nodding to her. “Sleep well, Naminé.”

The door closed, the doll forevermore oblivious as it dreamt of love.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
